But, before he had
an opportunity to do this, the man, whose eyes were closed, opened
them, and, as he got a better sight of his face, Tom uttered a
cry.
"Why, it's Mr. Duncan!" exclaimed the lad. He had recognized the
rich hunter, whom he had first met in the woods that spring
shortly after Happy Harry, the tramp, had disabled Tom's motor-
cycle. "Mr. Duncan," the young inventor repeated, "how did you
get shot?"
"Is that you, Tom Swift?" asked the gunner. "Help me, please. I
must stop this bleeding in my arm. I'll tell you about it
afterward. Wind something around it tight--your handkerchief
will do."
The man sighed weakly and his eyes closed again. The lad saw the
blood spurting from an ugly wound.
"I must make a tourniquet," the youth exclaimed. "That will check
the bleeding until I can get him to a doctor."
With Tom to think was to act. He took out his knife and cut off
Mr. Duncan's sleeves below the injury, slashing through coat and
shirts. Then he saw that part of a charge of shot had torn away
some of the large muscular development of the upper arm. The
hunter seemed to have fainted and the youth worked quickly. Tying
his handkerchief above the wound and inserting a small stone under
the cloth, so that the pebble would press on the main artery, Tom
put a stick in the handkerchief and began to twist it.
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